The Young Master, Sleeping
by thelostopportune
Summary: Mey-Rin writes to her diary about a particular afternoon she will never forget. Mey-Rin's POV.


**This is my second Kuroshitsuji story. To those who sweetly supported me with my first story, I am very grateful.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, and I dare not to wish it to fall into my hands.**

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Dear diary,

Today is another peaceful day at the Phantomhive manor. I broke another set of plates when I tried to put them back in the kitchen cabinet. Once again, Mister Sebastian caught me sleeping while in the middle of work. And this time, I ruined the young master's clothes when I used flour instead of detergent.

But today, something unexpected happened. Something I have never encountered before which left me at a loss on what to do…

It was during this afternoon, when the sun was nowhere to be seen and the clouds were the color of ashes. When the rain was falling indecisively, unsure if it should fall heavier or more gently. I had just ruined the young master's attires, so while Mister Sebastian began to mend the seemingly hopeless garments, I was told to bring the tea to the young master's office.

The young master, he… I never seem to know how I should behave myself around him. Although he is younger than me, I never thought of treating him like a child. When I think of a child, the image of Miss Elizabeth pops in my head. Lively, quite spoiled, cheerful, helpless. However, the young master is nothing like that. He holds his head up high, his pride higher than the heavens, his determination unwavering, his command binding.

I reluctantly followed Mister Sebastian's order and slowly made my way to the young master's room to avoid spilling the tea. The closer I got to his room, the louder my heart pounded, as if it was right inside my ears. As I walked down the hall, I began to rehearse how I would present myself in front of him. "Young master," I thought, "Mister Sebastian sent me to deliver your afternoon tea. He will soon attend to the young master."

When I reached his office, I lightly knocked on the door three times and announced myself. There was no response. I slowly opened the door while informing him that I am to let myself in. I closed the door behind me and noticed the darkness that enveloped the room. Even though it was only three in the afternoon, the sun had completely surrendered to the mournful clouds as the evening sky untimely claimed the day.

I found the silhouette of the young master sitting on the chair behind his desk that was covered with disorganized papers. "Young master?" I inquired. Receiving no response, I figured that the young master had fallen asleep in the middle of work, again. I carefully made my way next to him and placed the tray on top of his desk. Gingerly, I lit a small candle, giving the room a tinge of sunset. I knew that I should wake the young master, so I stepped closer, careful not to place the light too close to his face.

Only when he sleeps do I finally remember that the young master is still a child. His face looked so peaceful, nothing like his usual countenance. His lips were slightly parted, allowing soft, quiet and rhythmic breathes to escape. His long lashes were touching his cheek, and his lustrous hair grew even more radiant with the candle light's touch.

I lightly placed my free hand on his left shoulder, calling out to him as to arouse him from his sleep. "Young master," I began, "you shouldn't sleep here. It's pouring outside right now, and I'm afraid that the master might feel cold if you stay here." I meant to remind him that he was in the middle of work, but somehow those were the words I unintentionally said aloud.

His unpatched eye finally decided to open. He squinted at the sight of the candle light until his gaze finally fell on my face. He simply stared at my face, his eye the color of the ocean painted with red that is the setting sun. I naturally tilted my head to the side, and asked, "Yes?" What ensued after that was something I would never forget.

The young master let out a quiet sigh, his eye softened, his shoulders slumped. Following a light chuckle, he said, "Aunt Anne…" as he began to fall asleep, once again.

For a moment, I seemed to have stopped breathing. The light shook in my hand. The melting wax dripped on my skin, and the pain brought me back to the present. A sharp gasp escaped my throat as the thunder roared behind me. Without thinking, I grabbed the tea tray and left the young master's room. When I was finally aware of what I was doing, I was already briskly walking down the hall with hot wax dripping down my hand and salty water rolling down my face.

In that moment, the weather mirrored the state of my mind. As I slowed down my pace, I noticed how my heart was pounding violently on the wall of my chest. I somehow made my way back to the kitchen where I saw Mister Sebastian fixing a dessert snack for the young master. He looked at me and observed the things I held in my hands.

"I'm so sorry, but the tea has gone cold, Mister Sebastian. If it's not too much to ask, I was wondering if you can prepare the young master a warm milk with honey, instead. This kind of weather seems to call for such a drink, anyway, wouldn't you agree?"


End file.
